Mothers
by Smile because it happened
Summary: “Specs,” Boots looked up at the boy sitting beside him to make sure he was listening. “You see them babies over there, where’re their muddahs?”
1. Chapter 1

_My first Newsies fic!

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"Specs . . ." Boots looked up at the boy sitting beside him to make sure he was listening. "You see them babies over there. . . . where're their muddahs?"

Sighing in annoyance Specs stopped spinning his bowler hat and glanced up to see what Boots was talking about. He wasn't sure how he'd got stuck sitting next to the younger boy (he usually tried to avoid the younger ones, they were always too noisy or too quiet or too clingy) but he'd put up with Boots today because the kid had been pretty quiet. . . .up until now.

Across the street Specs could see that the doors of the local orphanage had been thrown open to try and let in some non-existent breeze. Through the doors rows of cribs are visible, each with a baby encaged inside. Some were standing up, clinging to the bars and staring curiously out onto the street, but most just lay still, sucking their thumbs and staring up at the ceiling. Specs knew that the orphanage only cared for babies. Once they reach three the children were moved somewhere else, out to the country where they learnt to be farmers and milkmaids and things.

"They don't got no muddahs Boots . . .they're orphans just like us. None of us got any muddahs." Specs waited for Boots to reply, or at least give some sort of sign that he'd heard him. When he received neither he glanced down at him.

Boots was staring thoughtfully at his lap, his brown furrowed in concentration. Specs watched the boys short legs swing back and forth while he waited.

"Snipes's got a muddah." The words startled Specs, who looked up to find Boots staring back at him earnestly.

"Snipeshooter?" Specs snorted in amusement. "He don't go no muddah."

"He has. He told me."

"I'm telling' ya Boots, he don't. Coz if Snipes has a muddah, then Racetrack has a muddah and Race sure as hell don't got no muddah."

Boots frowned, his bottom lip poking out slightly. "He _told_ me." He repeated, like Specs didn't understand the importance of the statement.

"You can't believe everything people tell you Boots." Specs hated how old and weary he sounded.

Boots shrugged, his frown disappearing and his face becoming young again. "I know. . .that's why I only believe him."

Boots jumped down from the steps and darted over to Snipes. Specs watched as the other boy broke his stick in half and handed one piece to Boots. As they began to play fight, Specs tried to remember when he'd stopped believing his own friends so sincerely.


	2. Chapter 2

Skittery lounged lazily on the steps in front of the lodging house staring moodily at the street before him. He didn't mean to stare moodily, it was just the natural way his face arranged itself when he wasn't concentrating. Sucking hard on his cigarette, Skittery lent his head back and stared up at the rapidly darkening sky. 

The sound of feet clunking quickly down the stairs made him stiffen and he prayed fervently that no one would come out and try to talk to him. _Please God, just let me have my last cigarette in peace._

Two minutes later a second set of footsteps descend the stairs, not a fast as the first. Skittery flicks the butt of his cigarette away as just Boots plops down beside him.

"Hi Skittery." His stony silence doesn't discourage Boots who continues to chatter on cheerfully. "What ya looking at?"

"Nothin'," Skittery mutters grudgingly, irritated by the energy and excitement radiating from the younger boy. "Just looking."

"Oh." Boots places his elbows on his knees and rests in chin in hands, mirroring Skittery's pose exactly. Skittery sighs in annoyance and hopes if he ignores the kid long enough he might take the hint and get lost. After five minutes he gives in.

"You want something Boots?" Boots jumps in surprise.

"Oh. . . no, I'm just waiting for Snipes. We're playing hide and seek."

"So you're hiding?"

"Nope, I'm the seeker." Skittery knows he really shouldn't ask but the words are outta his mouth before he can stop them.

"Then why ain't ya seeking him?"

"Coz I already know where he's hiding, he's behind Kloppman's desk. That's where he hides every time we play."

"Why don't you go and find him then?"

"Coz he gets mad if I find him too quickly. . . so I'm leaving it a little while and talking to you!"

"Lucky me." Skittery muttered, wishing he had another cigarette. He'd have to bum one of someone tomorrow. . .

"You see that building over there Skittery?" Skittery followed Boots' gaze to the orphanage across the street. "That's where the babies that go no muddahs live."

"No kidding. . ."

"Uh huh, Specs told me." Skittery rolled his eyes as Boots completely missed the sarcasm in his reply. "I think I hadda muddah once. . . "

Skittery turned to Boots in surprise, most of the Newsies didn't talk so freely about their pasts.

"Everyone hadda muddah Boots. . . it's just. . . some people still got 'em and some people don't." Skittery felt uncomfortable having this conversation. Boots' eyes were so wide and believing and Skittery didn't want to say anything that might take that away from him.

"Did you have a muddah?" Skittery's eyes widen and he turns to stare at Boots, feeling flustered and slightly affronted. Boots however makes no apologies for the question, just looks steadily back at Skittery and waits.

"I don't wanna talk about it ok Boots! And really, it's none of ya business so you just run along and play ya stupid little game ok?" Skittery's outburst hangs heavily in the air between them and he waits for Boots to stomp off in a huff or shove him away angrily like any other Newsie would. Or maybe he'd burst into tears like Slider had last time Skittery had snapped at him like that? Bumlets sure hadn't been happy with him that day. . .

"Do you miss her?" This kid just doesn't give up Skittery thinks to himself as he gapes at Boots, too shocked to be angry anymore. As his eyes scan Boots' face he realises how young the kid is, no more than ten or eleven years old, and feels a strange kind of admiration for the kid's determination and openness.

"Sometimes. . . when I think about her." _So I try not to_ Skittery adds silently, fidgeting with his fingers to avoid the younger boy's eyes. "She wasn't always a good muddah though. She tried her best but. . ." He senses Boots' nod of understanding and they sit in silence for a minute, both lost in thought.

"I think that, even though it hurts, it's better to miss someone than have no one to miss at all. Like them babies in the orphanage, I bet they're crying all the time coz they don't have anyone to miss. And they gonna be crying about that for the rest of their lives."

Skittery chuckles in spite of himself. "They just crying coz they're babies Boots. All babies cry."

Boots shrugs. "But I bet they wouldn't be crying so much if they could 'member their muddahs."

"Guess not." Skittery agrees, backing down from an argument for the first time in a long, long while.

"Anyways, it's better to have had a bad muddah than no muddah at all." Boots states with the boldness and bluntness only a child can get away with. Skittery smiles properly for the first time all day, appreciating the attempt to make him feel better. It wasn't often that people bothered to console Skittery.

"Thanks Boots." Boots smiles at him and Skittery has a sudden urge to hug the kid but feels to self-conscious to do so. "Hey, shouldn't you be off finding Snipeshooter right about now?"

"Oh yeah!" Boots exclaims, jumping nimbly to his feet. "I forgot all about him. He woulda been left under Kloppman's desk all night if you hadn't reminded me!" Boots throws his head back and laughs in a way Skittery has forgotten how to do.

"Night Boots."

"Night Skittery." Skittery leans his head back and stares up at the sky, feeling the warm fuzzy feeling his cigarettes never managed to generate. Closing his eyes he listens to the voices behind the door. "There you are Snipes! Found you!"

"You took ages and ages Boots! I thought you weren't ever gonna find me!" Snipes' young voice is tinted with playfulness and excitement.

"Yeah you hid real good this time. . . I looked all over the place. I was just about to give up when I 'membered about Kloppman's desk." Skittery smirks as he listens to Boots lie just to save his friend's pride.

"Does this mean I win?" Snipeshooter asks as their voices grow fainter.

"I dunno. . . maybe it means we both win coz I found you but it took me ages." Skittery can just hear Boots' voice over the sound of footsteps ascending the stairs.

"Yeah, we're both winners!" Skittery stops listening as their laughter drifts away, instead choosing to focus on remembering his mother.

Skittery doesn't go back inside until he's conjured up every last detail of his mother's face, every curve of her cheek and curl of her hair. It took him longer than he'd thought but now the image is fresh in his mind he's going to make sure he won't forget again because she was his mother after all.

It's quiet when he enters the lodging house, most of the Newsies are either sleeping or quietly playing cards by candlelight. As Skittery passes Boots' bed he stops and tugs the thin blankets up to cover his bony shoulders, tucking them around the child tightly to protect him against the chill. As Skittery moves towards his own bunk he feels good inside.

"Where 'av you been?" Specs asks as Skittery sits down to remove his boots.

"Outside smoking."

"Musta been a mighty long cigarette." Specs raises his eyebrows disbelievingly, his glasses flashing as they catch the candlelight.

Skittery grins at his friend instead of getting angry as he usually did when someone questioned him too much. "I was talking to Boots as well, kid got me thinking about things y'know. Before I know it the stars are out."

"Yeah don't I know it. I was talking to the kid just this afternoon. You'll never guess what he was asking me about. . . "

"Muddahs?" Skittery cuts in, smiling at Specs' confusion.

"Yeah, how'd you know that?"

"Lucky guess." Skittery lies as he climbs into bed. He turns his head and watches Boots' sleeping form for a moment before turning back to Specs. "Hey Specs," he whispers into the darkness. "Did you ever have a muddah?"

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Well my one-shot became a two-shot! And I thought I'd add some Skittery into the mix just for fun. Hope I managed to write him and Boots ok - I wanted to make Boots a bit plucky and bold coz I love the part during Carryin' the Banner where Crutchy tells him to move his elbow and Boots completely ignores him!

Anyways, let me know what you think.


End file.
